


Spellcraft

by BreakfastTea



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Magic Flasks, Magic Theory, Prompto is curious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 20:23:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13509105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakfastTea/pseuds/BreakfastTea
Summary: When Noctis can't sleep, he weaves magic into spells and potions. Prompto just wants to know how it all works.





	Spellcraft

**Author's Note:**

> I mentioned in [Conceal](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13442556) that I really like the idea of Noct sitting in camp with his friends, making his crazy powerful spells. So I decided to write an entire fic for it :P One of my favourite things about Noct's magic is how the game tells you that Potions etc only work because of his power. I really like that he can't cast Cure like in previous FF games. I decided to explore the idea in this story.

Noctis couldn’t sleep. He’d struggled a lot lately, his mind churning over so many thoughts he couldn’t drift off. Thankfully, his friends didn’t share his insomnia. They all needed rest. Before reaching camp, they’d ended nearly two days of no sleep with a battle against two Iron Giants. Noctis had even summoned Ramuh. Exhaustion clung to his bones.

But he couldn't sleep.

When they’d reached the closest haven, not too far from Lestallum, they hadn’t even bothered with food; just pitched the tent, fallen in, and slept. Or, the others slept. Noctis knew the sound of their breathing very well, able to discern the difference between real sleep and fakery when they were keeping a close eye on him even with their eyes shut. Tonight, they were all definitely out. Which was good, because he didn’t want any of them worrying about him. He couldn’t sleep. Not even the strain of summoning Ramuh was enough to put him out tonight. He was wired and drained all at once.

Bored, he mentally rummaged through the Armiger, taking a stock-check. He examined the weapons, curatives, empty magic flasks, his fishing gear and, tucked away in the recesses he didn’t allow his friends access to, mementos of childhood. A handful of his favourite manga. A much-loved ball his father had bought him long ago. A photo of his father’s coronation. A photo of his mother, radiant and joyous, worn at the edges where he’d taken it out and stared at it over the years, amazed to see many of his own features mirrored in hers.

It was no good. His stocktake didn’t help. Sleep continued to elude him. Noctis carefully sat up, keeping noise to a minimum. He needed some fresh air, but he didn’t want to wake the others. Thankfully, their exhaustion kept them asleep as he crept out. He stared up at the sky above, marvelling for a moment at the expanse of stars illuminating the sky above.

Dragging his eyes back down, Noctis sat beside the haven’s heart, its aquamarine light washing over him. The magic of past Oracles reminded him of his empty flasks. He summoned one from the Armiger and cupped it in his hands, feeling its weight. All the heat of Lestallum made him crave ice.

Pulling the cork out of the flask, Noctis wove his magic. Ice crackled out of his fingers and flowed into the glass bottle. He summoned a potion out dispersed it, capturing its essence in the magic tide. Green light sparkled and danced, weaving itself into the Blizzard spell. It was the best he could do where healing magic was concerned. While his father and the Glaives had cast true Cure spells, Noctis found his talents were… different. It was something that had amazed his father, who couldn’t weave the same spells no matter how hard he tried. A fond smile lifted Noctis’ lips as he worked, remembering Dad’s frozen hair when the Blizzard spell he’d attempted to bottle exploded in his face. He could still hear his dad’s laughter, even though the cold had to sting.

For so long Noctis thought his inability to grasp his father’s magic meant he would never be good enough. But research on Ignis’ part and experimentation by Noctis uncovered his unusual talents. He could share his magic, just differently. Rather than casting Cure, Cura or Curaga, he could house his healing magic in ordinary medicines that his friends could take with them, so if they were ever separated and injured, they wouldn’t be without aid. His magic suited their needs. And he found the act of filling the flasks relaxing; a way to focus his body and mind on a single task when otherwise he’d be all over the place.

The night wore on. Noctis filled flask after flask, switching elements, breaking down different additives to create spells with Status effects or healing elements. Sometimes he just went for it and created something monumentally powerful for the next daemon they came up against. Or the next Astral. They wouldn’t all be friendly like Ramuh.

The last of his stored elements ran into a flask, a triple combination Noctis would keep back for wide open spaces and extremely large enemies. Magic worked, he slumped in his chair, comfortably weary. He could get back up and sleep in the tent, but it was such a beautiful night… His eyes slid closed.

“Noct?”

He startled awake and looked up to see his friends gathered around him. The sky above was soft with early morning light.

Prompto grinned at him. “Did you actually wake up first and come out here?”

“No. Slept out here.” He stood and stretched, relishing the pop and pull of muscle and bone. “Too hot in the tent, and I needed to make some new flasks. We’re restocked for a while.”

“Awesome! Hey, did you make another one of those Firagas that also casts Stop because those are soooo cool.”

“I did,” Noctis said.

“Perhaps you should undergo some more training before we allow you to use such powerful spells again,” Ignis said.

Prompto frowned. “I apologised for the last time, didn’t I?”

“After the loss of a perfectly good jacket,” Ignis said, tapping his glasses up his nose.

“We can practice out here for a while,” Noctis said.

“Go ahead,” Ignis said. “I’ll prepare breakfast.”

“Not too far,” Gladio said. “Stay where we can see you.”

Noctis blinked. “Isn’t that Ignis’ line?”

Gladio shoved Noctis and Prompto to the edge of the haven. “Go!”

Prompto laughed. “We’re going, we’re going!”

Noctis stopped off at a nearby deposit, replenishing his elemental stocks.

“You look so cool when you do that,” Prompto enthused, snapping away with his camera.

“Stop it,” Noctis mumbled, heat rising in his cheeks.

“It’s the pose you strike.” Prompto mirrored him, arm outstretched. “Bad. Ass.”

“You think so?”

“Totally. The whole magic thing is awesome.”

They moved a short distance from the haven. Noctis rummaged through the Armiger, pulling out some empty flasks. He sat down and created a few low level spells for Prompto.

“Anyone ever tell you how happy you look when you do that?” Prompto asked from behind his camera.

“I do?” Noctis corked a Blizzard spell.

“Yeah, it’s like you get this big blissful smile.”

“It’s…” Noctis struggled to find the right words. “Relaxing, I guess.”

“Good.” Prompto slung his camera over his shoulder and held out his hands. “You need a hobby.”

Noctis tossed a flask over. “Remember, you need distance. You don’t want one of us to get caught up in the blast.”

“Right.”

“You really think I need a hobby?” Noctis asked. “I thought that’s what King’s Knight was for.”

“Yeah, but a hobby is more than that. You have to produce something for the sake of it. Like my photos. I do it because I enjoy it, not because I’m being made to do it. You need something like that too, and I think it’s when you make your flasks.”

“Magic isn’t exactly a hobby.” He could imagine the lectures he would’ve received had he referred to his birth-right as such. Even his dad’s patience had its limits.

“It is when you’re making flasks. It’s your version of knitting.”

“Knitting?”

“Yeah.” Prompto weighed the flask in his hand. “Remember that eleventh grade teacher we had who would always sit and knit once we were all working?”

“Oh, right. Mrs Kent. The literacy teacher.”

“Yeah, her.” Prompto launched the flask at a tree in the distance. It slammed home, freezing every leaf and branch. “Yes!”

“What about her?”

“You remind me of her when you’re making magic flasks. The way it all winds together. Except you don’t have needles or wool. You just have all this light and power at your fingertips.”

Noctis made another Blizzard spell and tossed it over. “Are you saying I’m knitting with magic?”

“Yeah, exactly. It’s pretty cool.”

“Huh.” Noctis watched Prompto freeze another unsuspecting tree. “Never thought of it like that.”

* * *

A few days, and a number of nasty hunts later, Noctis was astounded to find their magic reserves seriously depleted once again. His insomnia hadn’t let up, but nights full of weaving magic weren’t enough to keep up with demand. And that wasn’t even counting the huge number of curatives he needed to enhance. Ignis had been pretty liberal with the cash when they’d stopped off at Burbost earlier… which was probably why they didn’t have the money to stay in the caravan.

Sleep called to Noctis, the tent pitched and waiting to invite him in. But he couldn’t sleep. Not with so much to do. While Ignis cleaned up the dinner leftovers, and Gladio bitched at Prompto for taking a hit that left him with a nasty gash on his arm, Noctis created Potions and spells. He started with a Hi-Potion and tossed it to Prompto.

“Thanks, Noct!” Prompto broke it over his arm, the gash healing quickly.

“Move faster next time,” Gladio ordered. “You can’t rely on curatives forever. Those are supposed to be for emergencies.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Prompto said, saluting. “I will do better, sir!”

Gladio rolled his eyes and went to join Ignis.

Prompto strolled over to Noctis. “Is it okay if I watch?”

“Sure,” Noctis said distractedly, most of his attention taken up by the magic.

Potion after Potion took on a glittering green glow as he worked. Tranquillity washed over him as he worked, the stresses and strains of the journey fading away. His weariness faded too, settling into a background hum he could easily ignore. Noctis sensed his friends around him, but he was apart from them, caught in the Crystal’s powerful, familiar current.

Time drifted away from him as he worked, changing basic medicines and energy drinks into powerful curatives. Eventually, he ran out of things to enhance. Disconnecting himself from the crystal’s power felt like stepping out of a hot bath and into a cold shower. A sigh escaped him, weariness poking at him. He really needed a solid night’s sleep if working magic into curatives wore him out. He glanced again at the tent. No. His work wasn’t finished yet. He could rest once their stocks were rebuilt.

“So cool,” Prompto breathed.

Noctis jumped.

“Whoa, sorry!” Prompto said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright.” Noctis shook his head. “Forgot you were there.”

“I’m not surprised! You were concentrating really hard for hours.”

Noctis blinked and realised not only were the stars out, but Ignis and Gladio had disappeared. “Where are the others?”

“Asleep. It’s almost midnight.”

“Oh.” Wow. He really had lost track of time. “What about you? Why aren’t you asleep?”

Prompto shrugged. “Thought I’d keep an eye on you. You know, give Gladio and Ignis a night off.”  

“Get some sleep.” Noctis pulled a collection of flasks out of the Armiger. “Gotta make some more. You don’t need to wait up with me.”

“Yeah, but… I wanna watch.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. It’s cool.”

“Okay.” Noctis started with a few low level spells, things they could throw around in caves or mines and not worry about hurting themselves.

Prompto crouched down. “You’re putting these crazy spells in the bottles, but I don’t get how you do it without blowing us up.”

Ice poured out of Noctis’ hand into the flask. Blizzard spell created, he switched elements. Flames flowed like water into the next flask. “Dad asked me the same thing once.”

“He did? Wait, he couldn’t do this?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I know. I figured he could do everything that could be done with magic, too.”

“So how do you do it without setting us all on fire or electrocuting us or whatever?”

Noctis shrugged. “I just do.”

“That’s a lame answer,” Prompto said. “Explain it to me properly.”

Noctis corked another flask and reached for another one, thinking of the best way to explain it. “When you were doing your Crownsguard training, Cor taught you how to make your own bullets.”

“Yeah, except it was way too fiddly and I am super heavy-handed, so he decided maybe I should learn to never, ever run out of bullets. Which is why you have so many stored in the Armiger.”

“Oh yeah.” It had taken Noctis hours to store them all. He could’ve armed a small nation for months, maybe years, with the amount he had. But Prompto didn’t need to know all the details.

Prompto looked upset. “I tried my best.”

“I know, don’t worry about it. Just imagine that I gather magic the way you scooped up gunpowder and poured it into the casings. And the bigger the casing, the more powder you had to pour in, right?”

“Uh huh,” Prompto said. “I get it. And different bullets use different kinds of gunpowder.”

“Right. So the bigger the spell, the more I magic I have to hold.”

“In your hand?”

Noctis shook his head. “No. It’s – ” How could be put into words the feeling of holding the magic he needed inside himself while carefully funnelling it into a container so he didn’t accidentally cast Firaga in the middle of camp? “More like carefully pouring water out of a bucket into a much smaller container.”

Prompto smirked. “Are you calling yourself a bucket?”

Noctis sighed. He knew it was a bad analogy. “Sure. Fine. I’m a bucket. And the water is the Crystal’s magic. I’m a vessel for its power. And if I think to myself _cast Firaga,_ that’s what’ll happen. It’s like giving the magic inside me an order. But when I’m creating spells, I think differently. More like I ask the magic to work with me instead of doing what I want it do in an instant.”

“That sounds really complicated,” Prompto said.

Noctis shrugged. He had no idea how else to explain it.

“What about when you use extra ingredients? You put a Behemoth horn in something the other day! How do you even get that in the flask?”

“Are there any of those Alstrooms left over from dinner?”

“Yeah, I’ll grab some.” Prompto jogged over to Ignis’ supplies and returned with the goods.

“Thanks,” Noctis said. “Watch.” Sticking with lightning, one hand guided bright sparks into the bottle while the other cupped the Alstrooms. Noctis closed his eyes, his magic wrapping around the ingredients. He broke them down, his mind and magic unpicking them at an atomic level. Their essence transformed into sparkling bright blue light. He bound the light to the lightning and sent it all into the flask, taking the time necessary to create a powerful Thundaga spell. When the spell was complete, he corked the flask and handed it to Prompto.

“Whooooooa. That’s amazing!” Prompto said. “So, the bigger the spell, the longer it takes? Because that one took you a couple of minutes.”

“Right.”

“How come bigger spells don’t need bigger flasks the way bigger bullets need larger casings?” Prompto asked, picking up an empty flask and holding it up alongside the one Noctis had used for the Thundaga spell. “This thing can hold whatever you want it to hold. I don’t get how you can pack it all into something so small.”

Noctis looked at him. “Magic doesn’t really abide by the laws of physics they taught us in school.”

Prompto mimed his head exploding, complete with sound effects.

Noctis laughed.  

Prompto handed the flasks back to Noctis. “Y’know, there’s one thing I’ve been meaning to say. Ever since the beginning when you first showed me all this magic stuff.”

“Yeah?”

Prompto scuffed the heel of one boot back and forth across the haven’s ground. “Thanks for sharing. You know, all of it. The magic. The potions. The weapons. Everything. Who’d’ve thought someone like me would be able to pull weapons out of thin air!”

“You know you’re welcome.”

Prompto nodded. “Right.”

“I’m serious. You’re welcome. Thanks for coming with me,” Noctis said. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Like I’d let you get married to Lady Lunafreya without me!” Prompto said. He sighed happily. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

Smiling, Noctis stood up and stretched, his back cracking. He was too tired to do more tonight. And they had enough magic to be getting on with. At long, long last he felt ready to sleep. He returned everything to the Armiger. “Bedtime.”

“Good. I knew you hadn’t been sleeping well. Why else would you always be up before the rest of us?” Prompto said.

Noctis crossed his arms. “Maybe I’m just trying something new.”

“Hah, no way would Prince Noctis give up on sleep willingly! We’ll be dragging you out of bed on your wedding day.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Prompto grinned. “Night, Noct.”

“Night, Prompto.”

Noctis kicked off his boots and slid into his sleeping bag. He listened to Prompto doing the same with his eyes shut, a pleasant drowsiness calling him to sleep.

“Oh, wait, Noct, one more question? Please?”

“What?” Noctis grumbled, more than ready to not be awake anymore.

“Did you ever add Ebony to a spell, just to see what it would do?”

“Once,” Noctis said. “Years ago. We don’t speak of it.”

“What? Why?”

“Because if Noct values his life, he will never touch my Ebony again,” said Ignis, his voice emerging from the darkness.

And not another word was spoke that night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me over on [Tumblr!](http://breakfastteatime.tumblr.com/)


End file.
